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by i_gacha_bro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, hermione picks her up, i hope this isn't too cheesy for your liking, oc is drunk, tgis is one of my wildest daydreams left unchecked so like...why not right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_gacha_bro/pseuds/i_gacha_bro
Summary: A particular night had brought Debbie into several revelations that she couldn't bring to admit in her sobered state.Who would have thought that a woman like Hermione was yet to be unraveled by a reckless, drunken charmer. And before she knew it, she was neck-deep into trouble; she's falling harder for her.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 3





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She didn't bother to pour a dollop of vodka into the shotglass the bartender catered her with earlier. He looked perturbed when she demanded for an unopened bottle out of the shelf and chugged it down like it was water. And another.

And another.

Until Hermione showed up into the pub, finding a slumping woman by the counter who absently fiddled after the unused shotglass. She was relieved, of course, having seen her being safe and sound.

After interrogating the approaching bouncer and the bartender, Hermione knew she was good with settling things her way. And she did, resulting both men to wear satisfied looks.

She was to retrieve both the galleons and her girlfriend. Though the latter had been unconventionally difficult.

"It's not nearly as good as a-" a jerky hiccup, "-firewhiskey." She chuckled to herself stupid, all the way shaking her head as another thought invades her silly, addled brain. "I don't understand, we're in UK-"

"Quite right there. Now, come on." Hermione grunts while taking both of her Debbie's arms together. Though her weight gave Hermione a good deal of difficulty trying to get her to stand up.

"As I wus saying-" she abruptly paused, batting her half-lidded eyes up at Hermione. And she gave her a look of constipation while she fumbled about, "Lady, y'dunno what yer _doing_."

Hermione gave her a look of confusion, though the drunk woman dismissed what she previously said with a wave. She spoke once again, "Anyway, why's firewhiskey spelled with an _'ey'_? Fuckin'-" another hiccup, "-schtoopid. 'Cus, like, we're in UK-"

Hermione was getting all the more impatient, giving her a look that she has to stop. Eyeing the bottle of the unempty vodka at hand, she made a futile attempt to grab it from Debbie's clammy hand, though she only lifted it away from her reach.

Letting out a frustrated groan, she tried to carry her by her armpits this time while her butt hovered over the stool.

She bared a playful grin at Hermione, who now looked like she could use some levitating spell and a drink herself. Hermione looked irritated now, and her drunken girlfriend pouted. "Oh, come on, lemme -" a hiccup, "- finish this bottle. Can't let the galleons be _put. To. Waste._ "

The brown-haired woman frowned at the memory when she paid the bartender in full. Of course, with the appropriate money for all of the vodka Debbie had bought with galleons when she was starting to get drunk. "Darling, I believe it's pounds." 

A look of random amazement passed on Debbie's face, as if Hermione had the solution to all of the world's problems. "Holy shiii-" another hiccup, " _you're so smart!_ " her much-sober girlfriend crossed her arms, though traitorously amused. She went on with a drunken glee on her voice, "Pretty too, like Hermione!"

"I-" Hermione stopped herself, now that she allowed the whole situation to sink in. Debbie doesn't even recognize her now. "How many galleons did you spend tonight?" She asked instead, knowing that she had mixed up two monetary units.

"I don't know-" she shrugged, "but I'm willin' to give it all up jus' so I could spend my night with you, sugar." She shot Hermione with a flashing grin, only for her to hiccup once again.

Hermione blushed at her words between the conjunction of amusement, and anger, and pleasant jitters forming in her belly. What would have happened if she didn't come here? Would she have picked up other girls she met in this pub?

"How about your girlfriend, then?" Hermione quipped, with a tone of underlying curiosity.

"I don't have a girlfriend, if tha's what you're worried -" a hiccup, "- about. _She woulda been if..._ " and suddenly, her face grew uncharacteristically sullen. Hermione was even more curious with what she has to say next. Debbie continued, "If she liked me back, ya know. But, like, I'm out o' her league. End o' story. Case- _fuckin'_ -closed."

Hermione was taken aback, _"She?"_

Debbie gave her a look that tells her that the answer had been right under her nose. "Uh, yeah?" She looks marginally embarrassed now. She rubbed her nape, then chugged at her bottle to hide that slip of drunken persona, then sets it down on the counter. "I tol' you already, didn't I? You act, and talk, and look like _her_." And she's not even looking at Hermione anymore, much to her embarrassment.

As if struck with a realization, she shot her head up, staring up at Hermione suspiciously. "By any chance," she pointed her finger, "yer a boggart, aren't you?"

For a moment there, Hermione thought she recognized her. She guffawed loudly in the pub without restraint, slapping her knees. Her laughter was loud that made some local patrons look over her way, having an impression that the woman on the bar stool was telling her a joke. They nodded, ignoring them once again.

And once Hermione had composed herself in dying fits, she looked at her with a straight face. "Why would you think I'm a boggart?"

" _I know,_ " she agreed with her as she rubbed the pad of her forefinger into the side of her temple, thinking. "Hermione gets scary an' intimidating when I fuck things up everytime, or any white-haired asshole for that matter. But..." a hiccup, and a silent chuckle, " _It's so sexy_." She was lost in a reverie once again, most likely recalling that one time when Hermione punched Draco square on the face on their third year in Hogwarts.

Hermione hadn't realized her jaw was slacked as she listened. She nodded at her, as if they had shared the same thoughts. "Yeah. Years ago, she punched this git for bullyin' Hagrid. Boy, I've always thought about it. If she gets real frustrated-" a hiccup, "-she coul' beat the shit outta me any day-" another unexpected hiccup, "-take it out on me and stuff. And I'll be the happiest broad alive."

The knots worsened in her belly, heat blooming on her cheeks. "You think so?"

"Yeah, why?" she shrugged, "Some people are into that kind o' shit. Just humor me if tha's disturbin' for your liking."

Her slurring gets worse, and she could use some sleep already. But she didn't relent, she finished what was left of her vodka in one go, and jumped off the bar stool. She tripped, of course, but Hermione caught her just in time.

Debbie giggled, bracing herself flush into her warmth. She mushed her face into her chest, and Hermione hoped that she couldn't hear its frantic beating. She was still awestruck with the revelations she had never heard in her sobered state. 

"Hey, lady?" her eyes goggled up at Hermione, smiling broadly. She reciprocated this, playing it off while she's gotten jittery from the heated proximity. "What?" she said plainly.

She had that raw look of wonder whenever both of them were alone; that look full of adoration and love speaks so much than her charming words could. The look she has after they reached a blissful high, content. Or when they sat together in silence, taking in on one another. Her mouth went dry, taking a whiff of Hermione's scent that smelled like a meadow, filled with beds of flowers on a spring day.

Hermione's heart twinged, a certain ache that reminded her that only one person in mind could do this to her. 

She hung her mouth ajar, taking Hermione in a sudden whiplash of wild emotions when she asked: "Are you an angel?"

Hermione played this off, hiding a flustered expression. "What? You mean a Patronus?"

"No. Angel." she clarified.

Up until now, she looked like a blushing bride on her wedding day. She readjusted her hold when she starts to slide off of her arms. After some time of prolonged silence, Debbie spoke once again with a souring look. "C'mon, jus' humor this drunken fool."

Hermione laughed to herself, elated and suddenly shy to a woman who was remotely a stranger to her. She thought that Debbie recognized she was drunk at the very least, and maybe she was just caught up by her silly delirium. And come morning, maybe she'll hardly remember when she's finally sober. 

Debbie nudged her lightly out of her blissful trance. Hermione snickered at her insistence. "Alright. Fine," she started, "you talk much. Maybe I am, you'll never know."

And somehow, the whole thing ended up mercifully with Hermione having convinced her girlfriend to leave the pub with her, slumping against her on the way out. Twentysome minutes passed by, occasionally retching, Hermione decided to tell her.

"You do know I'm your girlfriend, right?"

She froze, a grin forming up on her glowing face. " _Awesome._ " she happily drawled.

Hermione chuckled, and Debbie rests her head on the smooth crevice of her perfumed neck. She spoke up with an excited trill on her voice, "We jus' met! Are y'sure? I think yer gettin' ahead of yourself. You are-" she pauses for a moment that had Hermione to instinctively rub her back in soothing circles. " _Hold up, I think I'm going to-_ " she parts from Hermione, only for another hiccup to resurface instead of a dragged-out retch. She composes herself, cursing at herself, "Pretty shure I wasn't this nauseous earlier. But as I wus sayin', you're skipping the crucial steps. I haven' even caught your name!-"

"Hermione,"

She froze instantaneously, as if a cold bucket of water had been smothered her whole body and senses to sobriety. She looks up at her, stuttering, " _I-I can't, uh - don't - buh. You're not..._ I think that fucker put something in my drink."

Hermione's face contorted into one of the looks of confusion and amusement. Making good with her words, she cupped Debbie's cold cheeks, and softly - _oh so softly_ \- she kissed her, though not quite moving her lips. As if it was another way to let her feel her warmth and presence. She hummed into the kiss, nervously skirting her fingers into the small of her back, and into her soft, brown curls.

After some time, Hermione parted first, face as red as a cherry tomato. Debbie was just as hot and bothered from something innocent. Merlin, it does something to her, especially that adorably shy smile that tugged her heartstrings once more.

Debbie beamed up with a stupid, lovesick expression, falling harder for Hermione. "I think I remember now."

_The next day..._

"What happened last night?"

Hermione shrugs as she laid the glass of water and painkillers on the bedside table. "Oh, you know, _stuff_ -"

She tugs hard on her knitted sweater that Mrs. Molly Weasley made harder than necessary. She had a pleading look, " _Drunk witch roleplay?_ "

"Close enough. Actually, you were remotely acting as one."

She lets go of her sleeve, slumping back onto the bed. Though, her already aching head made contact with the headboard instead of the cushions with a loud **thud**. She seethed a curse, rubbing her head. "I knew it. I was short with 40 galleons, I checked my purse this morning. What happened to the bartender?"

"I paid him. I saw the bouncer about to drag you out of the pub when you kept paying the bartender with _'counterfeit'_ money. Played along with it, of course. The only reason he didn't kick you out on your second bottle was because...what was it that he said?" Hermione had a mock expression of recollecting the events last night. And then, she perked up with a glowing face, "Oh, _'made quite a good company with others because she's having a delirium about crying tubers in a form of a baby, and other stuff like warthogs.'_ "

" _But, what if-_ "

She picked on what she was about to say, as if she had read her mind. "Way ahead of you. I sent a letter to Mr. Arthur Weasley to take care of the local patrons. You're been walking on thin ice as it is. I couldn't bring myself to imagine if you whipped your wand out last night."

She slid back into the covers, hiding her face in embarrassment. "I can't believe I had the Ministry of Magic involved."

"Good to know that you've come to your senses. We'll wait for further notice for the hearing warrant."

Like a deer caught on headlights, she peeked out of the comforter with a pale face. "I only did a mime-and-tell if my memory served me well! _A hearing?_ I can't afford to-"

Hermione grinned at her, "Just kidding, I'm just pulling on your leg."

 _"What?!"_ Debbie guffawed loudly in disbelief, feeling cheated as she sat upright to brace tightly on Hermione's waist, and pulled her down onto mattress with her. She straddled over her hips, chuckling in effort as she wrestles her into submission.

But Hermione shucks her off, and proceeded to pin her arms down until she was completely hopeless below. The snickers ceased, and their labored breaths remained to fleet around their atmosphere. They were their own world now.

Hermione's face reddened at the memory of her words last night at the pub.

_"If she gets real frustrated -" a hiccup, "- she coul' beat the shit outta me any day -" another unexpected hiccup, "- take it out on me and stuff. And I'll be the happiest broad alive."_

Her girlfriend squirmed below, her heart racing wildly inside her ribcage. She looks away, absently rubbing her thighs together.

 _Holy shit_ , Hermione thought. _She wants me to be rough with her._

" _Hey,_ " she beckons with a gentle, keening voice. She looked at her almost instantaneously. Debbie didn't trust her voice this time, instead, she hummed in acknowledgement.

Hermione cleared her throat, "I've reconsidered what you said last night."

Incredulous and confused, she gave her a look. "Darling, I can't remember a single thing-"

" _Oh, I'm sure you will._ " And then, she was taunted by that suggestive smirk she held. She rolled her hips firmly onto her thighs, making her body quake in excitement.

And the painkillers were forgotten, perched near the bed where two lovers melded together into singularity. After all, she thought Hermione was one of the best options she could go for to rid of her hangover.

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another self-indulgent oneshot. No regrets.


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